


Green and Growing Things

by ObsidianJade



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:45:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidianJade/pseuds/ObsidianJade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aragorn is used to places where abandonment is spoken in green and growing things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green and Growing Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inkedbooklady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkedbooklady/gifts).



> Disclaimer: A not-for-profit fanwork. 
> 
> Many thanks to InkedBookLady, who read this over for me and gave me the courage to post it!

Aragorn is used to places where abandonment is spoken in green and growing things. 

Minas Tirith is no such place. Abandonment here is spoken in quiet death and desolation, where the funeral flowers are carved in stone and not the slow creep of ivy through mortar. There is no slow encroachment of grass through the cracks in the cobblestones, no overgrowth of trees in orchards and yards, no quiet strength of green life reasserting itself. This place is all dead stone, an echoing mausoleum to unforgotten sins.

There is no life here. 

He kneels at the bottom of the dais, one knee aching already on the unforgiving stone as he pays homage to what he is supposed to be. 

What is he, he wonders, staring up at the throne from beneath the imagined weight of the crown not yet upon his brow. He is a child of the Elves, Isildur’s heir or no. He is a child of green things, a man of open fields and whispering trees. He does not belong here, among dead stone. 

He hears no footsteps behind him, but turns anyway. As expected, Legolas is there, with Gimli not far behind him. He reads the message in the tilt of Legolas’ head, the creases half-hiding in Gimli’s beard. 

Frodo is waking.

Rising from his protesting knee, Ellesar looks to the windows of the citadel and nods to himself. There is enough light here, now, to bring a bit of life within.


End file.
